Page 147 of Mother of Death and Dawn

It was quieter here, though the rest of the fighting would reach me soon. A few stairs led down into several inches of water, beneath melancholy arches of white.

I stepped into the water, and an involuntary gasp ripped through me.

For two seconds, I felt as if I was falling, even though my physical body had not moved. I looked up and saw stars glowing bright violet above me. I was so deeply attuned to every sensation for miles. A powerful force called to me. Ahead, a streak of blinding light, growing more intense by the second, reached for the sky.

It was the Lejara, and more importantly, it wasthem. I knew it. I shared their souls. I would recognize them anywhere, even by spirit alone.

I stepped forward—

I was suddenly yanked backwards. My head smashed something hard. The world was cold.

I was no longer with them. I was back here, in the ruins of Niraja, my body cracking against marble stone.

I barely managed to turn my head, just in time to see a flash of blond hair and a sword swinging at my face.

I rolled out of the way and grabbed my weapon. By sheer luck, I managed to recover fast enough to block Ishqa’s strike.

Ishqa.

For several seconds, I just needed to take him in. He was so much closer than when I had seen him last, his face mere inches from mine.

All thoughts of Maxantarius and Tisaanah withered away.

No. I wanted blood. I wanted justice. I wanted vengeance.

“You,” I snarled. “You did this to me.”

I drew my second blade and plunged it into his side.

He staggered back. I was after him just as fast. He recovered quickly, even as blood gushed from the wound in his side. Ishqa was a powerful warrior. He was stronger—but I was faster.

I threw myself at him, strike after strike after strike.

“Do you know what they did to me because of you? Do you know what they took from me?”

I didn’t even realize I was speaking aloud until my throat began to hurt. Didn’t realize I was crying until the tears blurred my vision.

“Five hundred years. So many days. Nothing but white and white andpain.”

He barely managed to evade the knife I aimed at his face. Blood smeared the side of his cheek. I’d sliced off one of his ears, or part of it.

Taking an ear wasn’t enough. The people he had given me to had cut off every part of me until there was nothing left. And then they had cut away my soul.

I pushed him against the wall. He was badly wounded—I could feel it in his struggling breaths.

“Do you know everything they took from me?” I snarled.

“I do,” he said.

I do?No. I wanted more. I wanted him to beg for my forgiveness as I emptied his entrails.

“Why?” I heaved. “Why?”

I was getting better at reading the expressions, but I could not understand this one.

“I have regretted it every day since, Aefe.”

This answer enraged me. He winced as I drove the tip of my knife a little further into his throat.

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